


Gentle Violets

by aphVirginia



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Felix dies in the first chapter just a heads-up, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:05:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5910160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphVirginia/pseuds/aphVirginia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Locus has done many things in his lifetime. He'd killed so many people, ruined so many lives; what will he do to fix it? And why does the man in purple armor want him with the sim troopers who he'd tried to kill all of an hour before?</p><p>A fic where Locus is offered a chance to join the Reds and Blues at the end of season 13, and accepts the offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentle Violets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locus thought he was Felix's ally. He thought he and Felix needed each other. He thought the SIM Troopers weren't an important part of their failed mission.
> 
> Clearly, he'd thought wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! Before we jump into the content, I'd just like to make it clear that Locus/Doc (is there even a ship name for it? or is it too rare of a rarepair?) is going to be the main pairing for this fic. That being said, there will be other pairings within; I'm not saying which ones, though--it'd ruin the surprise!!!
> 
> And remember: Comments feed the author. I'd love to see your ideas and commentary, as well as where you think this will go next.

“Get behind me!!!” Felix roared, shield lighting up. Locus darted behind, bracing for impact. He doubted the flimsy thing could protect the two of them from an entire ship’s worth of shrapnel, but seeing as their options were limited, he didn’t have much of a choice. He thought he heard the teal one--Carolina, he believed--yell something before a bubble shield went up around her and Agent Washington. A bright light, a loud noise; Felix’s feet slid back towards him an inch from the explosion. And then it hit.

The two of them were buried in a pile of rubble. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, panic overriding rational thought. His leg was bent in a way it shouldn’t be, his side burned in agony; the body above him shifted, pressing it’s elbow to his side. Pain overwhelmed his mind, his body, his soul… It jabbed downward, the sweet embrace of unconsciousness claiming him soon after.

He jolted awake when something slammed into his stomach, jostling his ribs.

“Wake up!!!” Felix snapped, looking down at him. Even with the helmet, he could feel the intense glare the other was giving. “I told you we would make it.” He grunted, shifting to alleviate the pressure on his broken ribs, a hand fluttering protectively to the weapon given to him.

“Felix… It’s over.”

“Run your camo and stick to the shadows. I’ll draw them out.”

“The Tartarus is destroyed. Our numbers are falling. The mission--”

“Fuck the mission! Jesus Christ, for once in your life would you forget about following god damn orders?!” He looked at Felix in shock--the asshole had never yelled at him. Not with the venom and malice his voice now carried, a tone that promised death to all who opposed it; he stared in shock, silently thankful for the helmet hiding his emotions from the world. “I’m not doing this for Hargrove, I’m not doing this for money; I’m doing this for me.”

With that, Felix left. Left him alone with his pain, with the weapon, his mind in complete and utter turmoil. If they won, they’d be trapped on the planet they’d been hired to kill the life on. If they lost, they would die at the hands of the SIM troopers, the Freelancers, or the UNSC. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours… He heard Felix yelling, somehow gaining the push he needed to climb to his feet. Pain laced his every step, weapon hung limply at his side; he used the wall for balance, but eventually he ran out of wall. He collapsed in the middle of the room he and Felix had crashed in, letting out a grunt of pain rather than the scream of agony that threatened to tear itself from his lips. He carefully rolled onto his back, to ease the pain he felt with every breath and to put weight off of his busted leg.

“Why have you come here, meddler?” The red AI asked, voice gravelly and deep. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the AI was… concerned. For him, for the SIM Troopers, for Felix, he did not know.

“To... kill the simulation troopers.” It was getting difficult to breathe; he needed to get up, increase the volume of air he could take into his lungs, but he lacked the energy to do so.

“Will this secure your victory over their forces?” It was a sensible question; however, it wasn’t his wish to kill them. The AI overheard his and Felix’s conversation, so why was he asking?

“No…”

“Then what purpose will it serve?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t know. Felix had a personal vendetta against the troopers, but what it was he didn’t know.

“Then why are you trying?” Was the AI trying to make him hate his partner? More than he already did?

“I don’t know…” He knew. He was there because Felix was there, because Felix had dragged him out of the rubble just as he had dragged Felix out of a gunfight. He and Felix owed each other so much yet hated each other to the point of a twisted sense of companionship.

“Then what do you know?”

“I don’t know.” He was getting angry; his ribs ached, his vision danced with stars… Not for the first time, he longed for his childhood home. He missed his home, missed the salty smell of the ocean breeze, missed the twinkling night sky he could see from his small grimy window. He quickly cleared his mind of such frivolous thoughts--he couldn’t afford a distraction, not with the chaos he knew Felix would create.

“Then what do you want to know?”

“I… I want to know…” What did he want to know? How to go leave this godforsaken planet? Where the nearest bottle of hard liquor was? What Felix wanted to do? “What Felix is afraid of.”

“You were broken by war. It was his goal to see that you never healed. Because despite what he may claim, only one of you needs the other to survive.”

“What are you saying?” His mind couldn’t compute. He didn't understand… He knew Felix needed him, but...

“Ignorant creature. Your partner is afraid of you.” … What? Afraid of… him? He’d known Felix for years, how could the other possibly be afraid of him? He slumped back, mind reeling. Somewhere, he could hear Felix yelling--was the other man really scared of him? As the thought about it, his mind again and again recalled times where Felix had convinced him to do things he wouldn’t do otherwise. His stomach churned with an icy coldness, dread seeping through him and making his limbs lead-heavy.

He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the screaming ache of his ribs and icy numbness of his leg, grabbing his gun and staggering towards the source of the voices. Gunshots echoed through the building; he did not pick up his pace. Making a cornered Felix wait for rescue was the last of his concerns--pain was replaced with red-hot anger, footsteps silent as he observed his partner get cornered.

Felix’s laugh spurred him forward; that insane, absurd laughter of the man’s assumed victory caused him to stand between Tucker, Church’s hologram, and Caboose, tossing his weapon to the kneeling Felix’s feet. He’d been lied to, used, kept on a leash by his alleged partner; he refused to allow it to continue.

“... huh?” He shut off his invisibility; he hadn’t realized he’d turned it on. Mutely, he heard the reds and blues speak, as if he were listening to them from the end of a tunnel.

“Locus… What are you doing? You were supposed to kill them.” His mind zeroed in on the voice, eyes locking on where he knew Felix’s would be.

“No.”

“What?” He could hear the shock in his partner’s voice; he could imagine, in every little detail, Felix’s look of absolute and utter shock.

“No more killing.” His voice stayed cool and calm, despite the emotions that boiled up inside that threatened to spill over into his speech. Then again, he had always kept his emotions under wraps, even in situations where it was bad to do so.

“What are you talking about? You’re a soldier, remember?!?” He caught the quiver in Felix’s voice; he knew that Felix was, beyond a doubt, absolutely and utterly terrified.

“I’m not a soldier. I’m a monster. Like you.” Venom dripped from the words, putting meaning behind them that he’d lacked in every other argument he had ever had with the man. He recalled each and every time he’d been dragged into less than pleasant surprises by him, every moment his partner considering betrayal before saving him at the last moment even when he would have never postponed the rescue had their roles been reversed.

“Locus… We’re… Partners… Survivors… We need each other. Wh-what about our orders?!?  Our reward?!?!? Becoming the ultimate weapon?” Felix was fishing for something, anything, that could draw him back like a dog on a leash. He knew it, felt it, sensed it; he could tell that Felix knew it, too.

“I’m not doing this for the reward. I’m not doing this because someone told me to. I’m doing this… for me.” Silence echoed throughout the platform, a rolling cloud of tension that blocked all action and breath. Felix took a halting step backward, away from the creature he feared the most. That’s what he was now: a creature, a dog, willing to obey orders for any meager scrap of kindness others could offer. Perhaps his partner sensed that he would no longer answer to him, that there would be no rescue from his predicament.

The sigh broke the tension, Felix’s posture slipping to one of defeat. He must know that there was no possible chance to escape, that he’d been out-thought by the troopers…

“Then you can die with the rest of them…” Before any could register the words, Felix unleashed and threw his sword at his enemy; Locus dodged quickly, landing on his side. A pained whine escaped his lips, though the troopers were more focused on the danger than they were on him. Bullets were fired, then stopped; He focused on climbing to his feet, grabbing the weapon that Felix had thrown at him. He held the hilt, turning just in time to see Tucker toss a grenade to Felix’s feet.

“W-wait!!!” Felix’ voice took a hue that he’d never heard before. His partner had never shown real, piss-your-pants fear… The explosives went off, sending his partner flying off the edge of the building before he could do anything to save the other.

It… It was over. His mind reeled, coming to terms with the fact that he could leave, he could be free, he could do whatever he wanted. Almost instinctively, he unsheathed the sword; its glow mesmerized him. He could recall Felix with it, but he could twice as easily envision any of the sim troopers with the weapon.

“It’s said that only a true warrior can activate these temples...” He hadn’t meant to speak the words out loud, yet they floated in the air like a heavy blanket, obscuring what he’d meant.

“What do you think you’re doing?!?” Tucker exclaimed, pointing his gun at him. Rather than answer, he activated the temple, listening to the AI’s familiar, booming voice.

“The tower is ready. You may now transmit your message.” Tucker lowered his gun; he could practically imagine the surprise written on the other’s features. Locus retracted the key from the hologram, turning to walk away. How he managed to keep from limping, to keep from collapsing from the achy pain of his leg and broken ribs, he didn’t know.

“Hey, just ‘cause you saved us doesn’t mean you can leave, asshole. You killed innocent people!!!” Tucker had a fair point, the upper ground, the weaponry… He knew what to do.

“I know. I’m going to make things right… But not from inside a cell.” He sounded so sure, so calm, so confident; he knew the reds and blues would look for him, would hunt him down--

“You can start by helping us.” All looked at Doc in surprise. Locus silently thanked the high heavens for his helmet, blocking his dropped jaw from view. He wasn’t sure what the others were thinking…

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?!!??” Tucker exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “That asshole tried to kill each and every one of us, along with everyone else on the planet, and you want- you want to keep him???” The others nodded in agreement; Locus was just surprised he’d been given the offer at all.

“To be fair, we kept Washington after he shot Donut and kidnapped me. And you all thought he was dead.”

“That’s different, Doc.” He couldn’t tell, but he got the feeling that Tucker was glaring daggers at Doc.

“How so? Big badass mercenary guy was just following orders, and now he has the chance to make things right. Sound familiar to you?”

“... Damnit, Doc, ah hate it when you’re right. Almost as much as ah hate it when Grif’s right.” Sarge said, surprising the others.

“But sir--”

“No, Simmons, he’s right. They both are… Unfortunately.” To his surprise, Grif spoke up. He’d have thought that the orange-colored trooper would hate him just as much as Felix… Apparently, he was wrong.

“But--”

“Simmons, use your brain!!! The Blues have their Freelancers; where else are we going to get a mercenary?”

“Sarge, are you seriously considering keeping this asshole?!?!” Church exclaimed, shocked beyond belief--well, as shocked as an AI can be.

Locus took a halting step backwards, silent except for the soft clink of his heel on the floor; immediately, Doc took notice, turning to face him.

“So, what do you say, Locus? Want to start making things better by joining us?” The argumentative banter fell silent, all eyes turning to look at his own. What should he do? He'd hurt so many people, ruined so many lives, had no idea where to start…

“... Yes. I… I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. These people would probably shoot him in the back as soon as they had the chance, especially the Freelancers…

Doc removed his helmet, tucking it under his arm; Locus’s breath stopped in his throat. The man had a massive grin on his face, triumphant and ecstatic. The deeply tanned skin crinkled at the corners of his eyes, emerald sparkling with joy. Absently, Locus noticed the others staring at him; had he not shown them his face before? It didn’t seem to bother Doc; all Locus could think was ‘Oh shit, he’s hot.’

“We’ll paint your armor a reddish-purple once we get out of here; But, may we see your face, too?” All eyes went from Doc’s incredibly outstanding looks to his helmet; he… wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Why?” Caboose’s voice rang out, surprising almost everyone; Doc appeared rather unfazed by the question. Had he planned this ahead of time? The thought made his stomach churn, but by this point it was too late to back out of it.

“Well, if he ditches us last-minute, we can pick his face out from a crowd of civilians and deal justice.” Doc’s voice had a hint of something else in it, seemingly unnoticed by the nods of approval from the other soldiers. Even Epsilon nodded, albeit reluctantly. The purple-armored man wasn’t telling the whole truth. Still, it rang true; Were their places switched, he’d have asked the same.

“... Only if Epsilon removes my name from the files he’ll be sending out.” It was a fair request; it wouldn’t do for him to be arrested after joining the Reds and Blues to try and fix things… Though, the glare he was sensing from both Epsilon and Tucker made him doubt the vocalization. He opened his mouth to explain his thought process, but Donut’s cheery words beat him to it.

“Well, we have to see your face first, silly!!!” The cheerful tone was at complete contrast to the mood everyone else was feeling; except for, apparently, Caboose and Doc. Sarge was uncharacteristically quiet, Simmons wasn’t bitching (he knew from Felix that that’s what the red soldier tended to do often), Grif wasn’t complaining, Tucker was judging the scenario before speaking, and Epsilon was silently seething… Caboose, he’d come to realize, was simply alright with any scenario that went down, so long as his friends were alright and he got cookies at the end. Doc, though… Doc looked like it was Christmas day, and that Locus was the present.

Still, the general nods of consent from all but Epsilon were rather comforting. Locus lifted his hands to his helmet, ignoring the pain flashing up his side from his broken ribs (he’d forgotten them in the argument; not the pain was blossoming again), and undid the latch on his helmet. He held off on removing it, though; the AI could still potentially send the files with his name attached, and he wasn’t going to reveal his face if he didn’t have to.

“...Locus, why aren’t you taking it off?” Doc sounded confused--looked confused. The man’s doe eyes trained on him, and he swore the other knew where his were somehow because how else could that pleading gaze be so intense?

“Epsilon.” The AI looked up at him; yet again, he got the feeling that he was being glared at by the computer program.

“Yes, dumbass, I’ve messed with the files and erased all traces of your being involved. Now take off the goddamn mask.” He didn’t trust Epsilon, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. With a soft sigh and one last glance at Doc’s doe eyes from the safety of his helmet, he removed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this!!! It's my first time writing any of these characters, but I think I have Locus and Doc's personalities down pat. Feel free to nit-pick and find my grammar errors--all errors are my own, and I didn't have a beta reader for this.


End file.
